


Transcend

by MidNightBlue56



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Gen, Plot Twist, The End is Neigh, Trigger Warnings, Warnings May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 12:52:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10465464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidNightBlue56/pseuds/MidNightBlue56
Summary: There are very few constants in the human life.While blinking and breathing and heartbeats fill the humdrum day-to-day "constants", it's truly not constant.  Sometimes we don't blink for fear of missing something. Other times we choose not to open our eyes so we can avoid our fears becoming reality when we see it for ourselves. We hold our breath while making a birthday wish. Or we hold our breath when anticipating earthshattering news. Our hearts skip a beat when we fall in love, our heartbeats slow with age eventually coming to a stop.   Blinking, breathing, and heartbeats may happen with usual regulatory, there isn't much regular about them is there?When in reality, the only constant we truly face is change.





	1. The End

**Author's Note:**

  * For [For my Sisters SPN/30](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=For+my+Sisters+SPN%2F30).



> This is the first chapter of my first fan fiction. There are many fanfics like it, but this one is mine...

 

     He always knew it would end bloody. His life, their lives would end bloody, and so it was.

     “Mom!”, Dean shouted. He just got her back as a thank you gift from Amara. Sure they had a rough patch. She wasn’t June Cleaver mom he imagined, but he certainly wasn’t Beaver either. ‘Cleaver’ he thought to himself, W _hat an odd name for a TV family that was supposed to be the epitome of the perfect All-American Family'_ He almost snorted aloud thinking of how he should share this with Sam… _speaking of Sam_  “Sam!” Dean shouted. With no response, he struggled to sit up and tried again, “Sammy” but it was quieter than he expected and produced no response from his brother.

     His energy was drained, Dean was wiped after yelling three times, W _hat the hell_? he thought, _I’m getting older but this is ridiculous_. His eyes were heavy and his shallow breathing hasten. Something caught his eye, something very out of place. Looking down, he saw a metal shaft protruding through the right side wall of his chest. When he had tried to sit up, he must have shifted enough to collapse his right lung. _I’ve been in worse scrapes than this,_ he thought.

     _I’ll check on Sammy in just a minute, I’m just going to close my eyes for a minute and muster all my strength…_ The sound of his own heartbeat in his ears lulled him to sleep, every beat arriving later, longer than the last.

     Her blue eyes met his hazel eyes. She knew there was too much blood, as it trickled from Sam’s mouth while he took a ragged breath.

     “Mom?”

     “Shh, shh, it’s okay Sammy, it’s going to be okay.” She was lying. Even if a team of the best surgeons repelled into that warehouse that very second, Mary knew her baby boy wasn’t going to make it. She had lost him 30 years ago when she had died.

    When she had died… Sam had lived. But today was different. Today she watched the grown man she was just getting to know dying, one shallow breath followed by a shallower breath.

    Mary closed her eyes, _John, I failed them. I failed our boys, again!_ she thought as tears slid down her face. She didn’t open her eyes in time to see Sam reaching for her, his mom.

     “Mom, I’m so sorry” he whispered. Fearing Dean’s judgement as Dean has clearly told him to watch out for mom before they got out of the Impala. “I just have a bad feeling about this one Sammy. Watch out for Mom, okay?” Dean’s words rang in his ears.

     The room began to fade, turning to darkness. Somehow, on some level, Sam knew this would be the last time he saw his mother, Mary. He wanted to remember her, to never forget what she looked like, one last time.

   

     Mary heard footsteps and her eyes flew open. Sam’s hazel eyes were staring back at her, his pupils were fixed, his chest didn’t rise and fall, he was perfectly still. Her baby boy, the wrinkled brow of concern she had known him to constantly carry was smoothed, relaxed. The weight of the world, of the wrongs he had committed pressed upon Sam Winchester no more.

     Mary’s thoughts turned to Dean. She thought she had heard him call out to her but she wasn’t sure if he had or if she has imagined him as a little boy calling out to her from a bad dream. Mary’s little boy, who the angels’ watched over. She could hear their song.

 

_Hey Jude, don't make it bad_

_Take a sad song and make it better…_

_Hey Jude, don't be afraid..._

_And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain_

_Don't carry the world upon your shoulders_

_For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool_

_By making his world a little colder…_

_Hey Jude, you're waiting for someone to perform with_

_And don't you know that it's just you, hey Jude, you'll do…_

 

     Heavy footsteps fell, closing in on her. Looking up, “You fucking bastards!” she growled. He just smiled back, reaching for her. 

 

The lights went out when he snapped her neck.


	2. Heaven Waits For You

“Why isn’t he awake?”, she whispered.  
“He will. He has to.”, he answered hiding his worry.  
“He’s been through worse.” a younger male added.  
“Just give him time. It’s always different for everyone, every time. He just isn’t ready yet.” a third male voice joining the conversation.

 

* * *

 

   
“Sam! Sam-mee!”, Dean rubbed his hands over his face into his hair and back down to his chin, franticly trying to make sense of the empty warehouse.  
Turning from right to left, everything was just the same as when he closed his eyes to rest, but it wasn’t too. The broken table that was flipped on it’s side, broken crates and lumber strewn around the open space. Walking to the table, Dean looked over to see if his mom and Sam were hidden on the other side of the table, finding the bodies of a very large man and a blonde woman. Crouching down, he checked the bodies for signs of life and identification.

  
_Not Sam, and definitely not mom_ , he thought _but what the hell was the British bitch Toni doing here_?

Standing back up to his full height, he turned around re-inventorying his surroundings and he saw it. Dean saw the spot where he had been sitting when he called for Mary, called for Sam, the last things he remembered. He stared at the metal pipe, maybe an inch in diameter bent sharply away from the wall. Dean looked down at his chest realizing the metal shaft that he remembered piercing his chest was the metal pipe he was staring at. Looking at the floor he saw the blood stain…  no, No! NO! He screamed while kicking crates and throwing other assorted debris in a fit of rage.

  
“I see the truth is settling in Dean”, the older man spoke. Dean whipped around to find the source of the voice. “Morgan Freeman?”

“What? Were you expecting someone else?” he said as he dug his spoon back into the pint of ice cream.  
“Well, yeah. Where’s Tessa? Or Billie…” he trailed off recalling that Cass had killed Billie when she came to collect on the deal Dean had made with her and that Tessa had ended her own existence after being controlled by Metatron.

“Mmm” Morgan pulled the spoon out of his mouth, “Remember, reapers can take any form they feel will bring comfort to soul they are collecting” he pointed the spoon at Dean emphasizing his point. Looking down and seeing he was talking with his spoon, the reaper held the pint of ice cream towards Dean “Schweddy Balls?”  
“What?” Dean looked mortified and confused. _Did Morgan Freeman seriously just offer me some of his schweddy balls_ .  
“Would you like some of my Schweddy Balls?”  
“No”, Dean answered, thoroughly weirded out, deciding this couldn’t get any weirder.  
“What? I like ice cream and Ben  & Jerry’s is a decent ice cream. Plus, I just like saying Schweddy Balls” replied the reaper.  
“Well, stop it. It’s... it’s creepy as hell man!” retorted Dean.  
“Creepy? Dean, I’m a reaper, that’s about as creepy as it gets for most people.”

Tilting his head to the side, “Touché. Morgan Freeman likes Schweddy Balls” conceded Dean. Who was he to judge another man’s choice in desserts.  
“Are you ready to go Dean?” asked the reaper.  
“Sammy? Mom?” Dean’s eyes filled with concern.  
“They already crossed, they’re  waiting for you. Let’s go and go for good this time Dean.” the reaper gestured toward the doorway of light that had materialized in the corner of the room.  
“Is it really done? Is it finally over?” Dean wearily asked, knowing he had been down this road a time or two.  
“Yes Dean.  It’s really over, it’s time to rest. I think you have earned it.”  the reaper replied.  
Looking around, realizing the reaper was smirking, Dean asked: “ Do I really get theme music?”  
“Well, I thought it was fitting” he responded.

Dean looked around the dusty, dirty, blood soaked warehouse, the music washed over him. It was finally over. Done.  His bowed legs gracefully carried him towards the light, towards the reaper. Tearing his eyes from the last scene of his life, Dean looked the reaper, “Let’s Roll”.  
     
   
     ...but I hear the voices say  
     Carry on my wayward son,  
     For there'll be peace when you are done  
     Lay your weary head to rest  
     Don't you cry no more  
     Carry on, you will always remember  
     Carry on, nothing equals the splendor  
     Now your life's no longer empty  
     Surely heaven waits for you  
     Carry on my wayward son,  
     For there'll be peace when you are done  
     Lay your weary head to rest  
     Don't you cry no more

**Author's Note:**

> Many chapters to come, many topics, stay tuned.


End file.
